


Mar’eyce - Rogue, Chapter 12| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

by ACourtofSnakesandStars



Series: Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader [12]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, F/M, Fingering, Graphic Descriptions of Character Death, Mentions of Suicide, Reader Insert, Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 22:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30062376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACourtofSnakesandStars/pseuds/ACourtofSnakesandStars
Summary: Summary: With the pair of you fighting your persistent thoughts, sooner or later, something has to give.And it just might.Warnings: 18+!!! Swearing, detailed descriptions of death/injury, mentions of suicide, angst, fluff, sexy times - fingeringAN: I told you this chapter would be long! This is a rollercoaster.
Relationships: Din Djarin x reader, The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader, The Mandalorian x reader
Series: Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171574
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Mar’eyce - Rogue, Chapter 12| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

A few weeks had passed since the Mandalorian asked you to join his clan, and you had accepted. 

And that was it. 

You were a clan of three. 

Just like that, you had a family again. People to look out for you, and in return, people you could protect. 

You still looked after Grogu when he woke up in the night, you took care of the countless injuries the Mandalorian seemed to sustain on his hunts, and you sat up in the cockpit like always. Nothing had really changed compared to what it was like before. 

Well… no.

That wasn’t exactly true. 

Your routines hadn’t changed, no. But… things between you and the Mandalorian had. 

If you were being honest with yourself, they had been changing since that night you broke down in his arms, but that hot and heavy moment on Nevarro, where you’d edged and edged each other only to be interrupted… that had knocked down a wall that had been separating the two of you. And now you were starting to notice exactly what that meant.

You caught yourself staring at him for a little longer, heard his voice grow a little softer when he spoke to you. 

When you were out and about, his guiding hand that previously only brushed your body now lingered and stayed there for a second or two, as if he couldn’t bear to remove it straight away. 

You had less silences and found that you spent hours and hours talking about anything and everything.

He laughed at your dumb, sarcastic jokes and teased you with his own cockiness, that was starting to be less annoying and more endearing. 

And it wasn’t just your relationship with Mando either. Something was going on with your powers. It was getting harder to keep them at bay lately, and more than one, you’ve felt it rise up within you and only just managed to tamper it down. 

It was like they were getting stronger in a way, aching to be used and having had enough of being contained. 

The urges to use them were becoming harder to resist too. In the past, you’d been able to ignore it, but that was easier said than done lately. 

Just a few days ago, you’d found yourself down in the cargo hold, mind wandering off in a daydream and when you came back to yourself, there was a box of spare engine parts floating three inches in front of your face. 

As for why it was happening… you had no idea. But a small part of you couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with what was changing between you and the Mandalorian.

He felt… safe. Like you could show him what you were, why you had even met in the first place. 

But something still terrified you, the idea of revealing the very thing that had gotten so many people killed. 

And yet, you still _wanted_ to tell him. Wanted to release that burden on something that… wouldn’t judge you for it. 

And as if that wasn’t enough, everyday it felt like the metal card in your cloak pocket grew heavier and heavier, calling to you, coaxing you to contact Rena and see how he could help you. Only you knew how much that would piss Lori off. 

But… it wasn’t his call to make. It was yours, quite literally. 

These thoughts floated around your head consistently, only adding to the undercurrent of stress and anxiety that was always there. It was causing your sleep to be disrupted, resulting in intense nightmares that had you screaming, and on more than one occasion had the Mandalorian bolting into your room, blaster in hand because he was convinced you were being murdered. 

It was embarrassing, frankly. 

You had always thought of yourself as strong, both mentally and physically. You had faced so much hardship and trauma in your life and yet you refused to let it break you. 

Time and time again you were pushed to the brink of that cliff, with the tempest of darkness below you waiting to swallow you whole, the raging storm above threatening to shatter you into pieces. 

And time and time again, you stayed where you were. You hadn’t fallen. 

But lately – since that night – it was becoming harder to control and harder to ignore. 

Something was brewing within you, and you didn’t know how long you had until it imploded. 

~~

~~~

_The forest was calm, just like always._

_The trees swayed gently in the soft breeze, bringing with it the rich scent of earth and faintly, the scent of the fishing pools in the village beyond._

_Sorgan was a peaceful place. It was safe._

_Sure, nothing happened, and you’d explored nearly every inch of the forest, but you could rest here._

_The leaves and twigs crunched softly underfoot as you made your way through the forest._

_You and your little clan had decided to come here for a break, a rest from all the other travelling. You’d been here for a week now and had taken up exploring what you couldn’t before._

_You had discovered a new path today, a disused trail that passed between two ancient, low hanging trees. Naturally, you followed it, wanting to know if it would lead you somewhere unknown._

_So far, you’d been in luck._

_Even if the trees looked the same, you definitely hadn’t come across this trail before._

_It was barely worn into the ground, and by the looks of the surrounding trees and plants, it was maybe as old as the planet itself, perhaps one of the original groves before all the other vegetation began to spring up._

_You were so deep in your daydreams, that you didn’t notice the squelching beneath your feet at first._

_When the noise filtered through to your senses, you assumed it was simply a small pond or a brook, which was good because you were starting to grow thirsty._

_You kept walking, following the damp earth until your booted toes splashed lightly at the edge of the pool. You looked down, but the moonlight bounced off the water in such a way that it stunned you, preventing you from seeing the water lap over your toes._

_Blinking rapidly, you crouched down, dipping cupped hands into the water and when they were full, you lifted them to your lips. You were confident it was safe to drink, as the ground was so rich and rocky that it would have filtered out any impurities. Besides, you’d drunk worse before and lived to tell the tale._

_Still stunned, you drank the water. It had a funny taste, metallically almost._

_No matter, you were so thirsty, you could have plunged your face into the water and drank the pool dry._

_You took another few handfuls, and then the moonlight shifted again, allowing your vision to clear, so you gazed down at the pool._

_And fell back on your hands in disgust._

_What you had expected – and hoped – to be a crystal-clear pool of water, was marred with red. The entire pool was full of it._

_There was only one thing it could be and that was blood._

_You had just drunk blood._

_Nausea roiled your stomach, and you took a few deep breaths, telling yourself it was fine._

_It might just be an animal, that’s all._

_Of course, that wouldn’t be so ’fine’, because you might have just poisoned yourself._

_Lori was going to kill you._

_Rising to your feet, you decided to follow the small stream that trickled into the pond for the source of that blood. If it was indeed an animal, the least you could do was try to help it – or put it out of it’s misery._

_You tracked the stream, blood still flowing in the water and it only grew darker and darker, the closer you got to the presumably injured animal._

_The stream veered to the right, underneath one of the colossal trees that had fallen._

_You paused, listening for the sounds of pain or panting but… it was silent._

_Maybe the poor creature had already died?_

_Just as a precaution, you drew your knife, and clambered over the log._

_Oh, how wrong you were._

_How utterly and completely wrong._

_No sooner had your feet landed in fresh blood, you saw exactly what had caused the blood in the water._

_Lying at the water’s edge, was a small, furry body._

_A very familiar furry body._

_Duru._

_She was dead, slumped on her side with her innards spilling out of her belly, which had been torn open. Blood soaked her pale fur, and her large eyes were still open, only they were dull and unseeing._

_A choked noise of horror escaped your throat and you slowly walked toward her, kneeling down next to the body of your fallen companion, “Oh, Duru…” Your hand shook as you touched her fur._

_It was still warm, meaning she hadn’t long been killed._

_With tears in your eyes and sickness in your heart, you slowly closed her eyelids._

_That familiar silken whispering had begun to call in your head, sensing the presence of death and destruction, as if knowing what this would do to you._

_She was mauled, yes, but it didn’t make sense._

_So much blood couldn’t have come from her, not enough that it filled the pool you had drunk from a good ten or so metres away._

_Which meant there was another body somewhere._

_Casting your eyes around, you almost didn’t want to find the other corpse._

_But the universe was not being kind to you today, for a few feet away, the other body was dumped on the floor._

_Smaller than Duru, his tunic torn and drenched in the scarlet blood that seeped into the water._

_His long ears were flopped down, one of them hanging from his skull._

_Grogu._

_Grogu lay dead on the floor._

_You didn’t want to look. You didn’t want to go over there and see the battered remains of the creature that you had come to see sort of as your own adoptive son._

_But you owed to him, to see if he was still alive._

_Drawing yourself up, you managed only to rise to your knees, too weak and sick to do anything else but crawl over to the body._

_You slowly turned him over, and promptly proceeded to vomit on the floor at the sight._

_Grogu’s heartbreakingly small body was utterly destroyed, his mouth open forever in a silent scream of terror and agony._

_His ribs were torn apart, exposing the empty cavity where his heart should have been._

_Through the blood and gore, you could see that his throat had been ripped out as well, utterly mauled._

_There was no way he was still alive._

_He was gone, ripped to shreds by some vicious beast and dumped in the middle of nowhere._

_Footsteps suddenly crunched in the leaves behind you._

_Familiar footsteps._

_You spun around, hand reaching for your knife just in case, but your instinct was right._

_The Mandalorian’s shiny head emerged from the trees._

_Relief rocked through you, and you moved forward, “Lori – I don’t – I don’t know what happened. I was just walking through and I saw blood and then-“ You turned back to that horrific scene, sobbing weakly and you almost couldn’t look at the Mandalorian again, “I thought he was with you. I thought he was safe. I don’t know what did it, I’m so sorry, Lori.”_

_You finally looked back at Mando._

_He was standing a little way away, but he hadn’t yet reached for you. He was looking over your shoulder at the sight of his dead son, one hand on his belly like it sickened him._

_Your boots bumped against his as you reached him, and you lifted a hand to the side of his helmet, “Lori-“_

_“Why did you do it.” The Mandalorian’s voice was hoarse, flat._

_Accusatory._

_You frowned, leaning your head back to better look at him, “Do what? Lori, what are you talking about – you can’t think that I would do this?” Dismay coloured your tone and filled every nerve of your body. He was joking, right? He had to be._

_The Mandalorian lifted a hand to your wrist, moving it away from his face, “Can’t I? How many other people have you killed? You say it wasn’t by your hand, but it was as good as your own.”_

_Nausea threatened to upturn your stomach again, and you made to step back further but his grip on your wrist was strong, “You’re lying. You don’t think that, you told me so. You… why are you saying this? We need to help Grogu, we need to see if we can revive him.” You could do so._

_You had saved the Mandalorian from the very brink of death, why wouldn’t you be able to save Grogu?_

_The Mandalorian snarled, his grip tightening to the point of pain, “You will not touch him with that power.”_

_You went rigid._

_He knew?_

_How did he know?_

_His head had finally turned to yours, and you flinched, almost as if you could see the hate in his eyes that darkened his voice, “Yes. I know. I’ve always known you were unnatural.”_

_You drew in a sharp breath, yanking your wrist, “Let go of me.” Your voice had turned hard, defensive against his words, the very words you’d heard whispered around you all of your life._

_He did no such thing, “You couldn’t stop at the villagers, could you. You just had to kill my son.” His voice broke, “My son. He was the only thing I cared about, the only good thing I had to live for, and you took him from me!!” The anger in his voice was like a dagger to the heart._

_Still, you pulled at him, “Stop! Stop this now.” You yanked your knife from your thigh, “I don’t want to hurt you, Lori. I didn’t kill those people! I don’t know what you’re talking about!”_

_He’d disarmed you before you could even finish speaking, “Look at yourself and tell me why I should believe you.” He spun you around sharply, pinning you against his body with his arm across your chest and your own knife at your throat. His other hand fisted into your hair, yanking your head back against his shoulder to bare the delicate line of your throat to him._

_Somehow, there was a mirror opposite you. But you had no time to ponder that, because the sight in the reflection of the glass turned your heart to stone._

_Blood._

_It was everywhere._

_You were completely drenched in it. It slipped from your hair, which hung in clumped together strands._

_The sleeves of your jacket were so sodden, they stuck to your skin, which looked like you’d dipped them in scarlet._

_Your face… It coated your face like a mask, dripping down your neck and soaking the collar of your jacket._

_It fell heavier from your lips, and when you dared to open your mouth, you were utterly horrified to find that your teeth were painted that same horrific colour._

_Like you’d ripped out Grogu’s throat yourself._

_You shook your head frantically, struggling against the Mandalorian’s grip, “No. No, no! That was me. I didn’t do it, I didn’t kill them, I swear!!” You pulled at his arm, but it was like iron over your chest._

_He dug the knife deeper into your neck, a bolt of pain searing across your skin. “Yes, you did. I tried to get here in time to stop you, but you had already torn the village apart. You used your power to hold them still and then you ripped them to pieces. You’re a monster. I once believed you not to be, but now I finally see the truth.”_

_Tears made tracks in the blood on your face as you realised… He didn’t believe you._

_He was going to kill you._

_A sob wracked your body, and the movement of your throat dragged against the knife blade, “Lori please, I don’t remember doing that. I couldn’t do that; I don’t even know how!!” Your cries echoed in the forest, and you felt your power tremble within you, pushing against its cage as it sensed a threat. Which would have been ridiculous, the Mandalorian would never be a threat to you… if he wasn’t holding a knife to your throat._

_The Mandalorian shook his head, the fingers of his other hand lifted from your hair, motioning to the reflection, “You might be able to lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” He let go of your hair, drawing his own knife from his belt and getting a solid grip on it._

_This was it. This was the moment you would finally die._

_You gasped for breath, feeling your power rising within you, even as you desperately tried to stop it. It sung through every cell in your body, breaking out of that cell and surging to the surface like a storm about to crack._

_The Mandalorian held the knife out, blade pointing toward your heart, “I should have done this a long time ago. I am finally ridding the galaxy of a monster. I’m just sorry I let you live this long.” His body tensed behind you, and then he was plunging the knife toward your heart. A brutal and deep killing blow._

_That power exploded._

_The tip just brushed the fabric of your jacket and then…_

_Stopped._

_In the mirror, the Mandalorian’s hand was still raised, the knife still against your body but he choked, a wet noise that bubbled through the modulator._

_Everything was still for a single second, and then his grip loosened, and he collapsed to the ground._

_Fear gripped you, but not for yourself this time._

_You spun around, dropping to your knees next to him, “Lori? LORI!!” You shook his shoulders gently, willing him to respond._

_He simply made that horrendous choking noise, gasping wetly for air beneath the helmet._

_It has to be his lungs, something was wrong with them._

_Another sob choked you, your hands on his chest and you tried to heal him, pushing that power against your palms but it wouldn’t respond to you, “Please, please let me save him, let me heal him, please!!”_

_The Mandalorian’s hand scrabbled beside him, and he held up the knife, pushing it onto your lap. Words filtered up to you, but you couldn’t make them out._

_You leaned down, shaking all over and you just caught the hoarse mumble, “Finish it. Save yourself before you go any further.” He gasped once, the sound catching and then with another bubbly cough, he went still._

_Blood dribbled down his neck from underneath the helmet and you felt like the galaxy was falling to pieces around you._

_You had killed him, crushed his lungs._

_You had killed your only friend, the only person who had never looked at you as a monster._

_Until now._

_A roaring filled your head, drowning out even that silky voice that was laughing in the back of your mind._

_~“Finish it.”~_

_Mando had given you the knife, the only way out._

_~“Save yourself before you go any further.”~_

_This was the only way to redeem yourself. The only way to pay penance for every sin you had ever committed._

_It hadn’t worked the last time you tried, but that was because a small part of you believed you had more to give._

_How wrong you were._

_This… this was what you had to give? Destroying the lives of your family._

_Murdering a child, and his father._

_“Finish it.” Your words were a soft mumble as you tore your eyes away from the Mandalorian and lifted the knife with slippery hands._

_Rising to your feet, you took one last look around, at the lush leaves of the trees, the thousands of stars above._

_You turned to the mirror, staring at your reflection._

_You could see no part of yourself you recognised in that mirror._

_Who you were… that had long since disappeared._

_This was the end now, and you deserved it._

_A last breath of clean air to fill your lungs as you lifted the knife to the space between your ribs._

_In… out._

_Summoning your strength, you jammed the knife into your chest._

_Only for it to meet resistance… yet again._

_“No!” Your cry tore through the silent air and you looked down at the knife, but you couldn’t move your hands. You couldn’t move them away, or closer to your body. They were being held there, held with… The Force._

_A laugh filled your senses, one that was oddly familiar, and it was… coming from the mirror in front of you._

_Almost reluctantly, you looked back up at your mirror._

_Which was holding her hand out, fingers splayed as she kept your hands immobile with the Force._

_She was dressed head to toe in black, a tight leather jacket replaced your own worn one, and it was lined with those symbols that danced in your dreams._

_At her hip, was the tube of a deactivated lightsaber, bands of gold wrapped around it._

_Moving your eyes to her face, you were nearly sick._

_She was you, as you were now. A murderer. A monster. Only, she owned it. Relished in it._

_She laughed again, your laugh and lifted her free hand to her face, licking the blood from her gloves. The Mandalorian’s blood. “Oh, he tastes just as sweet as I imagined. Well done, darling. You did such a good job.”_

_You could only make a pitiful noise, a whimper of agony, “Please, please let me die. I don’t want to do this anymore; I don’t want to fight anymore. I don’t want to hurt people anymore.” Your voice broke on the last word, “Please.”_

_Your reflection tilted her head, tutting like a disappointed parent “Oh no, my sweet. We’ve only just begun.” And then she moved, leaping out of the mirror and toward you, arms outstretched and eyes glowing._

_You only had time to scream, before she was on you._

_~~~_

~~

The Mandalorian couldn’t sleep. 

Again. 

He had tried to tell himself it was because of the hard floor beneath his piles of blankets, but he knew he was lying to himself. 

He’d had to sleep on solid ground before, and he had a better night’s rest than the last few he’d been having lately. 

There were a million excuses he could utter to himself until the Sun turned purple, but they would all be lies. 

There was only one reason he couldn’t sleep. 

A reason that currently lay in his old bed, sleeping soundly. 

_You._

You were the reason he hadn’t been able to sleep for the past few weeks.

And, if he was honest with himself, you were the reason he hadn’t slept properly in months. 

But he was rarely honest with himself when it came to feelings. He’d rather not acknowledge them. But he was trying to. 

It was a slow process. 

During the day, it was easy to ignore the thoughts of you. He could focus on other things, like flying the ship, looking after Grogu or hunting a bounty. Sure, it was difficult because you were _right there_ with him, smiling, laughing, challenging him and getting on his nerves. 

But he could do it. 

It was the night that he struggled with the most. 

When he lay in his bed, with nothing to distract him, his mind took advantage and plagued him consistently with thoughts that he knew he shouldn’t be having.

Like what it would feel like to touch your skin again, to slide his hand through yours and feel your fingers wrap around his. 

The way it might feel to lie down next to you and pull you into his arms. To feel the weight of your body leaning into him, warm and relaxed. 

He dreamed of how it would feel to take off his armour, and let you touch his body, map it and trace the scars that littered his skin. Find the scars that he didn’t even know he had himself. 

Sometimes, his dreams were more… desperate. 

In them, he would take off his helmet, and you would look up at him, run your fingers over his face, trace the sharp cut of his jaw. The bridge of his nose and the bow of his lips. 

You would run your fingertips over the faint lines on his forehead and the side of his eyes. 

He didn’t look at himself in the mirror often, but he knew his age was showing a little. 

He wasn’t a young man anymore, and he wondered if that would bother you. 

But in his dreams, you would press your lips to his, kiss him tenderly and then run your fingers through his hair, like he did to you all those nights ago. 

Mando couldn’t deny how achingly touch starved he was. His body cried out for contact every day, so his dreams were full of sensation.

He just wanted your touch, your admiration. 

But more than that… he just wanted _you._

He wanted your love and your laughter, the wonder in your eyes as he took you to new planets and showed you things you had only guessed at. 

He wanted your passion and the heat that ran between your bodies at any given moment. 

He wanted your sadness and your hurt, wanted to carry the burden and help you see what he saw in you every single day. 

He even wanted your anger. The fierce fire that rose into an inferno, that he had been on the receiving end of more than once. 

You were everything, every thought and emotion and wonder in the world that he missed. 

There was always a barrier between him and everything else. A shining, hard layer of cold armour that shut him away. 

But with you… he could _feel_ everything. You responded to the galaxy around you with such potency, that it was like he didn’t have his helmet or armour on. 

The Mandalorian rolled over, punching his terrible excuse for a pillow into a more comfortable shape. As he did, he felt something wash over him, a sort of… sensation of pressure. 

He lifted his head, peering into the darkness but… there was nothing there. 

He shrugged, dropping his head back down and trying to wriggle his weighted body into a more comfortable space. The only downfall to giving you his room was that he had no space to take off his armour. He still slept in his helmet in case Grogu was wandering, but he would remove the armour at least. 

Not that he would change it for the world. 

He would sleep in layers and layers of armour, in a beskar bed if it meant he got to keep the two of you, even Duru. 

He tucked his hand under his pillow, listening to the familiar ambiance of his ship. 

_There it was again._

Another wave of pressure over his body, this one more solid this time. 

It felt like the few times Grogu had used his unique tricks, either to move something or to heal him. 

_Maybe the kid was awake?_

Oh well. Maybe it was a blessing in disguise, he would only spend the night tossing and turning and wake up with his back hurting even more than it already did. 

He rose from the floor, stretching out the pain in his back that was already niggling, and he made his way through to Grogu’s little compartment. 

It was shut, but the kid could still be awake inside, so Mando pressed the button which slid open the shutter. 

To find the kid fast asleep. Literally, passed-out. He didn’t even wake up when the dim light of the hall bled into his compartment. 

Mando frowned, reaching a hand in to see if Grogu was having a bad dream, when he felt it again. 

It was stronger, making his body rock forward and the door of the compartment rattle ever so slightly. 

He looked down at the Child, his frown deepening beneath his helmet. It definitely wasn’t him, which meant…

_No way. It couldn’t be… could it?_

That wave of pressure swayed him on his feet and something in him, that same place where the thoughts of you resided called to him. 

And at the exact same time, he heard a scream. 

Your scream. 

It was muffled through the walls, but there was no denying that sound, or the complete terror and pain lanced through it. 

It shook him to his core, and he ducked back so quickly he nearly hit his head. He shut the compartment, then bolted down the hallway of the ship, his heart beginning to pound in his chest, his brain whirring. 

The wave had felt the exact same as the kid’s power. And there was only one other person on is ship. 

It would make sense, if you did have the same powers as the kid. 

He didn’t know what they were for sure but look at all the people that still wanted Grogu. And he was tiny. Fair enough he was fifty, but in his species, he was a baby. 

You were a grown woman, resilient and quite frankly, a warrior. If indeed you were the same… well, it would explain why your bounty was so damn high. 

He’d already guessed that Moff Gideon was the one who employed Haran, which only confirmed it even more. 

The Mandalorian ran up the hallway, rounding the corner toward your room and it was like running face first into a wall. 

That power was almost solid down here, like a thick wall. 

_It had to be you._

He struggled against the resisting pressure, and then it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He stumbled, tumbling over his feet face first. 

The Mandalorian fell to the ground but dragged himself back up as soon as he landed, scrambling to your door with a lack of elegance that he didn’t care about right now. 

You were screaming again, and the awful sound was tortured, a sound of undiluted agony and terror that he never, ever wanted to hear again. It shattered his very soul and lodged itself in his brain. With every scream, he felt a wave of pressure threatening against him, but he fought it, wrenching open the door to his old room – now yours. 

And there you were, tangled up in the blankets, your back arched. Your nails digging into the bed and tears flooding your cheeks, “No, no _no no,_ leave me alone!! Stop it, _PLEASE!!”_

The Mandalorian felt his own eyes burn with tears, his nerves being sawn like they were the ones being hurt. He called out your name, moving slowly into the room in case he was knocked down again. 

When he felt no resistance, he hurried forward, calling for you but you couldn’t hear him. Your whimpers and cries of anguish were too loud and agonised to hear him. 

It sounded like you were dying, and he couldn’t work out if it was because of the subject of your nightmare, or whatever power you possessed, because with the next wave, you gasped and curled in on yourself like it was a knife wound. 

He knew then that it _was_ you. You had the same power as the Child, the same ability to lift and control things and the atmosphere around it. 

He still didn’t know what it was, what the name for it might be. Something itched in his mind, something that might match but he could never grasp it. He had bene meaning to find someone to help the kid, but then you had come along, and everything had changed. 

But he would try harder now. He would find a person who knew about these things, help you all understand. 

Although, if you had been on the run all your life, and this was the reason why, he had a strong bet you knew far more. 

That was obviously way you hadn’t told him, and he didn’t blame you one bit. 

He would wait until you were ready, until you felt comfortable enough to tell him. He would keep what he had discovered to himself and offer the help when the time came. 

Later, he would have to sit and process this, what he’d discovered tonight. 

But first, he needed to wake you up, to protect you from the torture of your mind. 

~~~

~~

The sound of your name filtered slowly through the carnage in your mind.

It was persistent, terrified and your body was being shaken. 

It was her; she was here. She had found her way to you out of that mirror, and she was devouring any trace of goodness left in your body. 

You raised your hands, blindly punching and kicking out at her, trying to get her away, even as you screamed and begged for her to stop. 

“ _Sweetheart, it’s me!”_

No, no no no-

She’d taken Lori too. She’d sucked him in and now she was using him to make you weak. She had brought his corpse back to life and she was using it-

 _“_ Hey, hey, wake up! Wake up, princess, you’re safe! It’s Lori, I’m not going to hurt you!”

Under that voice, you could hear something else.

Whirring, a faint hum that seemed out of place in the forest.

It was the hum of engines, the hum of the Razor Crest. 

_The Crest._

_You were home-_

With a gasp, you forced your eyes open, head emerging from that horrific darkness with a soft cry of anguish and fear. 

Your vision cleared, and you became aware of the Mandalorian leaning over you, his hands gently grasping your wrists to stop you punching him and doing more damage to yourself than to the beskar. 

The familiar visor was trained on you and his voice was soft, “Easy, it’s okay… It’s okay, I’m here…” The tender care and worry in his voice, compared to the cold fury in your nightmare simply tipped you over that threshold and you burst into fresh tears. 

Huge sobs wracked through your chest, sending pain lancing across your ribs with the force of them. 

Mando made a soft noise, letting go of your wrists and immediately winding his arms around your shoulders and middle, “Oh, sweetheart.” He murmured it softly, lifting his gloved hand to the back of your head and he coaxed into onto his shoulder. 

The beskar was cold and hard, but it felt wonderful on your flushed skin. 

He was solid and warm against you and you clung to him, assuring yourself he was real, that you hadn’t destroyed him, his son or your pet. “I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry-!” You cried the words against his armour, knowing he wouldn’t understand but you had to say them, repeating them over and over like it might chase away what you’d done in your dream and what you’d seen in that mirror. 

He shook his head above you, resting the edge of his helmet against the crown of your head, “Shh, I don’t wanna hear it. You don’t have anything to apologise for.” He gently rubbed his fingertips against your scalp, providing a soothing pressure to the tension built up from your crying.

_You don’t understand. I do. If only you knew what was inside me, what I’m going to become._

You drew in a ragged breath, hands tightening on the edges of his armour, “No. I do. I might not yet, but I will do, I-” You swallowed another sob, “You shouldn’t have taken me from Nevarro.” 

The Mandalorian’s body went tight beneath you, his hand stilling against your hair, “What are you talking about?” 

_This was it, he was going to see now._

“There are things… thing’s you don’t know about me. About why I have a bounty on me and… It means I’ll hurt you. I can’t control what happens. I’m going to hurt you, or Grogu, or both of you. It might not be yet, but one day you’ll die, and it will be because of me. I’ll kill you; I’ll kill you all and I will have no one left because that is what I do.” You were getting worked up, everything building up inside you, rising like a tidal wave being controlled by a silky-smooth voice. “Everyone around me dies, again and again and I thought you were different, I thought you would be safe from me, but no-one is. No-one is safe because I am a beast and a murderer, and you should just – just kill me now and dump me somewhere I can’t hurt anybody else.” 

The air was silent after your outburst, the words that had always plagued you. 

The Mandalorian lifted his hand form your hair, and with it, your heart shattered. 

_So, he agreed._

But instead of pushing you away, he simply coaxed you to look at him, his hand gently grasping your chin, “I am only going to say this once. So shut up, listen, and absorb it.” His words were firm, but still gentle, reducing any sting they might cause. 

You swallowed, your cheeks flushed with tears and your eyes hurting, but you remained silent. 

He ran his thumb against your jawbone lightly, “You are not a murderer. Or a monster. I’m not dismissing anything you say you might have done, thing’s that might have happened as a result of one thing or another. You did what you had to do to survive. That does not make you a monster.” His other arm was still around your middle, hand resting respectfully just above your hip, giving you something to lean against.

“There are things that I’ve done, things I’m so ashamed of, I can’t even admit them to myself sometimes. But do you think I’m a monster?” He tilted his head at you. 

You shook your head immediately. Of course, he wasn’t a monster. He could never, ever be a monster in your eyes. 

Mando nodded once gently, like he could see your own thoughts, “Then there is no need to keep calling yourself one. I know that you think these things, that they whisper to you in the dark, maybe all the time. But… we’re a clan, remember?” He touched the pendant around your throat lightly, “So, whenever you think that, I will be here to tell you otherwise. Deal?” 

You looked up at him, your heart hurting but for a different reason this time. 

_Would he ever know how much he meant to you?_

You nodded, voice hoarse from screaming and crying, “Okay...”

The Mandalorian gently let you go, lifting a hand to wipe your tears with the back of his finger. “Good.” He leant forward, lightly resting the forehead of his helmet against yours for a moment. 

Then he withdrew, rising from the flimsy cot and making his way to the door, “I’ll let you get some rest. Shout for me if you need me-“

“Please don’t go.” The words were out before you could stop them. 

You flushed from head to toe, hating how pathetic and pleading the words sounded, but... the thought of being alone. Of going back to sleep and having to face that dark creature, the dark version of yourself-

You couldn’t do it alone. 

He was quiet for a few seconds, looking at you. You noticed that his chest rose and fell a little quicker, but then before you could worry you had messed up, he nodded. “Of course, I’ll stay.” He walked over, climbing into the thin bed and it dipped under his weight. 

He settled down on his side, tucking himself into the shape of your body. 

Mando’s arms snaked around you, one moving under your neck and the other winding over your middle. It was a snug fit, considering the bed was just enough for you to lay on your back, so you truly were pressed back into him. 

Not that you cared.

Even with his armour on, he was still warm and solid behind you, reassuring you that he would protect you against the terrors of your dreams. 

Quiet settled back over the room, the atmosphere weighing down because you were hyper-aware of every place your bodies touched. Your pulse pounded through your body and your skin felt like a million shocks were going across it. You held yourself rigid, trying not to feel him and as much as you wanted to sink back into him, you didn’t. 

Mando must have felt the wild racing of your heart, the tightness in your limbs, because his arms tightened around you, pulling you further back into the curve of him, “Relax… I’m here. Sleep… you’ll be okay, I promise.” His voice was a low murmur, made rougher by the modulator and it seeped through your bones, melting them and you moulded into the curve of him. 

Except the plates of his armour _were_ kind of uncomfortable. The chest plate dug into your spine, making you shift and try and work out a spot that didn’t irritate. 

Mando’s breathing stuttered, but it was so soft you must have imagined it. You closed your eyes, relaxing again and letting the quietness of the room settle over you. 

Sleep lingered at the edges of your consciousness, but it was marred with those dark whispers. 

_And his belt buckle._

A slightly irritated huff left your lips, and you shifted your lower half, trying to work around that niggling bit of metal. _Could he not have taken it off?_

It was the Mandalorian’s turn to go rigid behind you, a soft groan in the back of his throat. His voice sounded like he was gritting his teeth, “Sweetheart, I know the armour is in the way but please- lie still.” 

_Oh._

Heat flooded through your belly, your senses zeroing in on the reaction you were causing him. Your shuffling and rubbing against him had resulted in something rather hard pressing against your lower back. A wicked grin curled across your lips that he couldn’t see, and you shuffled backwards again, innocence lacing your town, “I’m sorry, I’m just trying to get comfortable. Your armour is really hard.” How you managed to keep your voice straight when you said that, you had no idea. You shifted your ass back against him, gritting your own teeth to suppress the hum of delight as you rubbed slightly against his length. 

_Is that your armour digging into my back or are you just happy to see me?_

You were rewarded with a low hiss, and you felt the bed dip as he tried to move his hips away but to no avail. There was simply no room, “Princess.” There was a warning in his voice, a thinly veiled one. 

And you wanted to break it. 

You couldn’t handle the tension anymore, the dreams. 

With a wicked smile, you followed him, arching your back _just_ right, rubbing against every single glorious inch that was being suppressed by his trousers. 

_Stars, he was huge._

A low growl emanated from behind you, but it was full of heat, and then you felt the edge of his helmet against your ear, “I know exactly what you’re doing, cyar'ika.” The beskar was cold against your ear, and you could almost feel what the fan of his warm breath would be like if he had no helmet on. 

This time, you couldn’t hide the smile in your voice, “Is it working?” You reached your hand behind you, trying to move it between where your bodies were pressed together. 

Mando’s instincts where faster, taking your wrist in his gloved hand and pinning it back to the bed in front of you. His voice was lower, that lace of cockiness there that normally made you want to throttle him – now it just made you want to fuck him., “And if it did? What do you want?” 

You let out a breath at that voice, losing yourself in it for a moment. It was the exact voice you heard in your deepest dreams, the ones that you didn’t admit to having because they were so cliché, so embarrassing – and yet… it was _so_ much better. 

Apparently, the Mandalorian didn’t appreciate your hesitation, because the next moment, he’d shifted forward on the bed, grinding his hips forward against your ass, making sure you felt him, “Answer me. What do you want, princess?” The hand that lay over your belly slipped under your top, trailing over your ribs to your breasts, then he lightly brushed his thumb over your nipple. The friction of the smooth leather was painfully delightful, and they instantly hardened beneath his teasing. 

_You. I want whatever you want to give me, I want us to stop dancing around each other. I want us to admit what we feel. I want you._

“A distraction. I want a distraction.” Your voice had become low with need, your head tilted back a little as you just savoured the thick line of him between your cheeks, fuelling the heat that soaked your thighs. 

Mando hesitated, giving you a change to be fully certain you wanted this. 

Sure, you had verbally fucked each other multiple times already, but this… this was past that. This was like standing in front of that crumbling wall and completely demolishing it. 

He wanted to make sure you were okay with doing so, with letting him touch you like that. 

Which you were. Completely. 

You couldn’t handle the hesitation between you both, not anymore. 

You needed this. Needed something good, and blissful to chase away that darkness. 

You swallowed, panting slightly already, desire pulsating through every part of your body so intensely it was almost painful, “I need you – _Please”_

Your gasp reassured him, convinced him you were okay, and he let go of your wrist.

He yanked the glove off the hand that lay beneath your neck, and then held the remaining one to your lips, “Take it off.” 

You parted your lips instantly, biting down on the worn leather as he worked his hand free and removed the glove. Your hand shot up, grabbing his own wrist to keep his hands there and you drew his index and middle fingers into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around them, between them, tasting every inch of his long fingers. 

Mando drew in a sharp breath, his hips instinctively jerking up a little at the feel of your hot, wet tongue, “ _Maker –“_ He groaned low, lifting his head a little to watch you. 

Feeling his gaze, you hollowed your cheeks, dragging your teeth over the skin as you leant back off of them, then licked over his knuckles, closing your eyes in pleasure. 

If only he knew how much this got to you. 

Those hands. 

Those gorgeous hands you hadn’t stopped thinking about since he nearly died, since he touched you in the kitchen. 

Now here they were, bare, and you were sucking his fingers. 

The mere taste of his skin could have tipped you over the edge, a faint leather note from the gloves. 

His other hand had since worked back under your top, and was massaging and kneading your breasts, making them ache even more with desire for him, to feel him. 

He must have known, must have felt it in the way you shuddered beneath him because he gently withdrew his hand, and seconds later it was pushing underneath the waistband of the thin trousers you slept in. 

His slicked fingers slipped beneath your underwear, dipping lower and then his soft curse filled your ear, “You didn’t need to do that, cyar'ika, you’re already soaked.” He sounded astonished, and surprised that he could cause such a reaction in you. That you were this turned on – for him. 

Despite the heat of the moment and your own neediness, it tugged at your heart. This man had spent so long alone, was so touch starved – relationship staved even that he was surprised you could want him so much. You turned your head to the side a little, so he could hear you better, the truth I your voice, “I always am for you. I… I’ve dreamt of this.” You felt your cheeks flush a little and knew he could see it, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to know this was meaningful – and the truth. 

Mando swallowed, absorbing that and then you felt the top of his helmet rest against the back of your head, “Well then, let me make sure I don’t disappoint you.” 

As soon as he finished speaking, he moved, ghosting his fingertips over your clit once before adding pressure, making tight circles that turned you boneless instantly. 

Your back arched, a moan coming from deep in your throat at the instant pleasure that rocked through your body from such a simple touch. 

_How could one simple touch have you teetering on the edge already?_

The Mandalorian groaned a little, his hand tightening on your breast and he whispered, “So responsive...” He made circles again, before slipping his fingers down through your folds and back up. It was a torturously slow rhythm, making you whimper softly in need every time his fingers circled your soaked entrance but barely prodded against it. 

You rocked your hips to his delicious torture, trying to take him in but the angle wasn’t right. 

“Hang on, princess.” He removed his hand, which earned him a pitiful whine from you. 

He chuckled, his voice husky but he only grasped your knee, drawing your leg back so it was hooked back over his, parting you and allowing him more room. 

Seconds later, his hand slipped back beneath your trousers, “I did that so I would have more room… to do this.” 

And then he pushed his middle finger inside of you, pinching your nipple at the same time. 

_Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck-_ Your moan was high, keening almost at the feeling of his finger inside you, those deft fingers that could swap between playing with Grogu, controlling his ship or firing a blaster, were now working their talent inside you.

He stroked at your walls, mapping you and becoming familiar, reading in your body what had you the most reactive. 

But it wasn’t enough, not even as he slid his finger out and pushed it back in. “More – please, _more-”_ You shuddered from head to toe, your body like a live wire. 

The Mandalorian rubbed his thumb over the sensitive bud, “I’ve got you, sweetheart.” And then he sunk his index finger inside, joining it with his middle and they both curled inward, brushing up against that spot that made your hips buck against his hand. 

Your back arched, head tilting back against his, “ _Yes – right there-”_

He answered your plea, beginning a mind-numbing pace of pumping his fingers hard inside, pausing now and then to go deeper and press against your g-spot. The position of your legs allowed him to go deeper with every thrust and the heel of his hand brushed against your clit every time he moved, and it had you crying out in pleasure. 

You matched his pace, riding his fingers and one moan just filtered into the next. 

You couldn’t think of anything else, could focus on nothing but his hands and the praises he was whispering against your ear, “That’s it, sweetheart, good girl. I’ve got you, I’ve got you..” 

This was beyond whatever you could have imagined. 

Sure, you had dreamt of this moment and touched yourself in the confines of this very room, imagining your fingers to be his – but this was completely beyond that. 

In your head, he hadn’t pulled your leg back to fuck you deeper with his fingers. 

In your head, he hadn’t murmured such delicious encouragement to you. 

In your head… it just hadn’t been this. 

You felt your belly tighten, felt everything become more intense and the electricity inside you made your toes curl, “ _Lori_ –“

He hummed against your ear, the metal feeling even colder against the flush of your skin, “I know, darling, I know.” He scissored his fingers, drawing them all the way out before sinking them back in, deep. “Let go. Come for me, sweetheart.” The heel of his hand pressed down hard on your clit, and then his _nails_ scraped against that spot –

The world imploded into stars. 

You cried out, back arching, “Lori, Lori, _Lori-_ ” His nickname was a chant, a prayer and a sin as it fell from your lips. 

He didn’t stop the pumping of his fingers, drawing it out as long as he could, and you were dimly aware of him swearing as he felt you clench tight around his fingers. His arm tightened across your chest, holding you back into him as you rode out your orgasm, holding you as you fell to pieces. 

Eventually, your hips slowed to a halt, your body turned boneless against him and you could suck in a breath again. You let go of the flimsy mattress, muttering almost yourself, “By the stars…”

Mando chuckled softly as he gently removed his fingers, wiping them on a rag that coincidentally lay next to the bed and then he set your clothes back to rights. 

He brushed the hair back from your face, his warm fingers trailing gently over your jaw and he seemed to be thinking about something. 

You lay there quietly as your breathing returned to normal, your mind a blissfully blank state, free of everything. Well, except for absolute wonder and astonishment at what just transpired between you both. You wriggled just a little, tucking your body back against him and trying to fit against the armour 

Mando lifted his arm, fiddling with something and you heard him unbuckle and place something at the foot of the bed, “Try now.” 

Leaning back experimentally, you found that the chest plate of his armour was gone. 

Your back was against his chest, his armourless chest. 

_Oh._

His chest was firm, and so, _so_ warm, the heat seeping through his underclothes and you sunk back against him, curving your back against him and it sent shivers down your spine. 

Sleep began to settle over you, the room peaceful except for the Mandalorian’s soft breathing behind you, and the faint whir of the engines. 

“Din.” 

You froze, awareness snapping into every single nerve of your body as he broke the silence, “What…?”

_Did he just…_

He brushed his thumb over your ear, his voice soft and almost a whisper, like he couldn’t raise his voice any higher than that. “My name... It’s Din. Din Djarin.” His heart was beating rapidly beneath the armour, and you were convinced you could feel it in your back. 

_He did._

You swallowed hard, finding that tears had suddenly begun to burn the back of your eyes, “I… That’s a beautiful name…” You whispered the words, afraid if you spoke any louder too, you might cry. “But-”

He seemed to know what you were thinking again, for he trailed his fingers through your hair gently, “We’ve been through… a hell of a lot. You know more about me than... anyone. And I think that might be the same for me knowing you...” He swallowed himself this time, “I… I don’t know… if you feel that something has changed, between us...” He broke off, a hint of bashfulness and uncertainty in his tone as he stumbled over his words. “You’ve given me so much of yourself, already. So… I want to give this to you.” 

Tears rolled freely down your cheeks now. His words were jumbled, but you knew what he was trying to say. You felt the same, combined with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and honour. 

And something else you were still a little afraid to put a name to. “Thank you… _Din_.” His name felt beautiful on your lips, and you treasured it like it was the rarest thing in the galaxy. 

Din shuddered softly, hearing his true name on your lips sent a feeling through him like nothing else, “You’re welcome.” His words were breathless, for this was the first time he had voluntarily told someone his name, given over a part of himself that made him not an anonymous Mandalorian, but a real person. He pulled the blanket up over you, and then settled his arm back across your middle over the top, so his armour didn’t chill your skin too much. 

The weight of it was ridiculously comforting, and it had you closing your eyes. There were so many things you could have said, so many words that you might have stumbled over together, but you knew you didn’t need to. 

But you still wanted to give him something, as he had given you, “I feel it too.” 

You felt his chest heave, like he sucked in a breath. He might have murmured something in response, you were sure he did, but a heavy, sweet darkness washed over you and welcomed you into its arms. 


End file.
